Speak Easy
by ErisandDysnomia
Summary: "Everybody likes my games soldier." She smirked and downed her shot after him, pink tongue coming to trace her lips once again. "Don't be a wet blanket." 1920s AU. Written for Soma NSFW week Prompt: Tie. Rated M for smut.
1. Chapter 1

**Speak Easy Part 1:**

**Like A Shot**

* * *

His brother had picked out his tie.

Soul should have known the implication of letting his brother pick out his tie. The last time he'd trusted that task to his brother, draft cards had been delivered to the Evans' house. Wes and Soul weren't surprised; "The War To End All Wars" had been plastered across newspaper headlines and horrid tales of Axis forces ravaging Europe accompanied them. America's pleading for Peace had been ignored, up until they point where America had been involved.

The Evans Family, Death City's main definition of "Old Money" has sat on their hands for a while. Celeste Evans, matriarch, had pondered the idea of letting her children sign up, or waiting until the government came for them. In the end, she found there to be no shame to keep her children as long as she could, while still maintaining the right degree of patriotism. Once the draft cards came in for her boys, she knew she had no other choice. Wes and Soul both found themselves being shipped off to the biggest war the world had ever seen.

They had been back stateside for a while, but Wes had refused to go home until Soul had healed all the way, staying with him in the hospital in New York. They first returned to their home in the summer of 1921. And Death City was in full swing of the after war celebration. And now that they were home, and their mother had been pushing both of them to get back in the swing of this, Wes had informed his younger brother that they were going to a club, and handed him a tie.

Soul wondered when he'd lost the ability to make decisions, much less on how to dress himself.

"Wes…I don't want to go." Soul growled at his brother as he wound the green tie around his neck. Wes shrugged at his words, and checked his own wild mess of hair in the mirror.

"Like that matters, we've almost been home for two weeks, and mother is done accepting the 'old war wound' as an excuse to recluse yourself, Little Brother. I've exhausted every excuse I could think of. Don't worry, get enough of an edge going, and the night will fly by."

"You say that like it fixes things."

"Maybe it will. Now come on, we gotta scram."

"And where, exactly are we going?"

"Why, the new juice joint little brother, you think I would take you somewhere boring for you first night back out there? We're putting on the Ritz tonight."

* * *

He knew who she was the moment he saw her.

Death City might be big, but it was separated into social circles dependent on class, and in every social circle, her name had been whispered over the rims of glasses and behind gloved hands. That was Maka Albarn standing over there, the daughter of the most successful bootlegger in Death City. She stood out in the midst of her friends. Her legs were longer than a mile, and her dress seemed to be short, even by a flapper's standards. She was easy to spot however, because her blonde hair was long, trailing past her shoulders.

And Maka Albarn was staring at Soul with a look that could only be described as predatory.

Soul tried to swallow, and turned back to the bar. The Speakeasy that Wes had dragged him too was actually one of the nicer juice joints Soul had ever seen. The lights were dim, almost nonexistent, and it made him glad to know that no one would really recognize who he was. He and his brother were from a family of old money, both of them had brought back war medals, for reasons they both didn't understand, and at the moment, they were both single.

Every woman in the city was trying to vying for the chance to slip a ring on one of those boys.

Soul chanced another look around the club, and found his brother sitting at a table with a group of friends, cigars stuck firmly in their mouths. Wes felt his brother's stare and looked over, waving his hand to invite him over. Soul smiled and shook his head, he was just fine drinking alone in the dark.

In front of him, Soul watched a hand wrap around his little shot of rum, and disappear, the shot glass being slammed back down on the table empty. His eyes followed the arm the hand was attached too until Maka Albarn's face smiled back at him, and he froze.

Those were the greenest fucking eyes he had ever seen.

It had been a while since Soul had really seen anything green. In the city, everything was multicolored glass and people; dark, industrial greys and stark, wealthy whites dominated over the streets. In the trenches, there wasn't anything green. Just mud, and mold, and death, nothing even came close to the green staring back at him. She smiled at him while she licked the remaining rum off her lips. "What's eatin' you Mac?"

"Sorry?"

"You're in a club, surrounded by girls who got It, and they're all fried to the hat, and you're sitting here, brooding."

"So?" Soul frowned, and motioned for the bartender refill his shot, glanced at the woman at his side, and motioned for two. She smiled at him again.

"_So_ soldier, why don't you go have some fun?"

Soul blinked before her words caught up with him. "You think I'm here looking to get with someone?"

"Now he's on the trolley!" Maka laughed as the bartender set their shots in front of them.

"Sorry Ms. Albarn, but that's not why I'm here."

"You know who I am?"

"Everyone knows who you are." He smirked at her. "Just like you know who I am."

The cheerful look on her face fell a little, and her smirk was just as dark as his. "Awh, Mr. Evans, it's no fun if you don't play the game."

Soul threw his shot back and sighed. "I don't like games, Ms. Albarn."

"Everybody likes _my _games soldier." She smirked and downed her shot after him, pink tongue coming to trace her lips once again. "Don't be a wet blanket."

"I'm not a wet blanket, and I'm not a soldier. I just don't like screwing around."

Maka was quiet for a moment, before her hand shot out and took hold of the green silk tie wrapped around his neck. She tugged it until he was facing her, and she moved in so her lips were barely grazing his. He could feel her breathe against his mouth, and he could smell the rum they had just knocked back. Everything in his head was telling him to run away. Maka Albarn was trouble, and there were at least ten women in this club already approved by his mother that he could satisfy the sudden need with, not the daughter of Spirit Albarn and his mysterious partner. "Don't you wanna play, solider?"

His hand flew from his side, and embedded itself in her long hair, and he pushed his mouth to hers. Her lips molded against his, and he could taste the alcohol that was still there. Maka's tongue pushed against his, and she leaned towards him, hand gripping his tie pulling tighter. She pulled away from him and grinned, before sliding off the barstool, and pulling him with her. She led him into the darkness, and he could only follow.

* * *

Maka wasn't actually one for playing games.

She slammed the younger Evans brother against the wall in the speakeasy, and attached her mouth to his neck. Her teeth bit down on the tanned skin, and he moaned, his hands fixed on her hips, which she ground against him.

Her hands were busy, they traveled up his chest, which caused more of a whimper to spill from the young gentleman's lips, rather than the rough moan's she'd been getting. She released his skin from her teeth and looked up at him. His shaggy white hair had fallen into his eyes, which were dark with a look she knew all too well, and his breathing was quick. But he also looked pained. She pressed her hands harder against his chest, and the pain looked a little stronger.

He made her feel bad.

She pulled her hands from his chest, and instead brought one to his hair, and pulled his mouth against hers again, while the other pulled the knot of his tie until she had freed the green fabric from his neck. She held it in her hands, before looking back up at him and wrapping it around her head to replace the headband she had lost somewhere between the start of their little necking session and now. His eyes grew darker when he saw that, and she leaned up to kiss him again. He wrapped his arms around her, and held her against him. She could feel his interest, and his heartbeat, and it disoriented her for a moment, before she remembered that she was supposed to be in control.

This was her game. Soul Evans would not beat her at it.

She pushed away from him, and grabbed his hand again. She pulled him with her, now that he no longer had the tie to be led by, until she brought them to a dead end. She felt around the dark wood of the wall for the little handle. Once she found it, she gave it a twist, and a few of the panels pushed inwards, showing Soul one of the rooms where the owner of the joint snuck in the alcohol. "How did you know about this place?" He asked, breath starting to regulate again.

"Girl's gotta know where she does business." Maka answered before pulling him in and shutting the door. Once again, she shoved him against the door, rubbing her tongue against his as their lips moved in tandem. She went to pop the buttons on his shirt, but his hands shot from her hips to catch both of her wrists in his hands, and he gripped them. "What?"

"Not that."

"Not your shirt? What?" She raised an eyebrow at him, but all she got as an answer was red painting across his face. "Alright then Mac, no worries." She leaned up to kiss him again, and he released her wrists. Maka bit down on his lip hard, causing him to gasp, before she released him, and dropped down to her knees. "Make sure you stay real quiet now soldier."

"Soul." He growled down at her as she worked his belt buckle open. She paused, and looked up at him, the green in her eyes playing off the green tie wrapped around her. "My name is Soul."

"I know."

"So use it."

"Alright then, _Soul_." She grinned as she tugged his slacks down, and freed him. He gasped, nails digging into the wall. "Make sure you stay real quiet." His red eyes flashed at her demand, but she only brought out her tongue, and trailed it from the bottom of his dick, to the head, where she pressed a kiss. The growl that spilled from his mouth shocked her, and aroused her more than she wanted to think about. This wasn't for emotion, this was fun, and this was a game. She greatly enjoyed bringing powerful people down a few levels, and the last name Evans made Soul a very powerful person. But he was also pretty good at throwing her off. He didn't act like he was anything important.

She didn't like being thrown off.

She brought one hand up to pump him slowly, while her mouth worked at marking his hip. Her teeth scraped against his hipbone, and Soul growled again. "What kind of game are you playing!?" His words barely passed clenched teeth. She grinned against his skin, before licking her lips again, green eyes on his.

"You don't remember how to have fun, do you soldier?"

He opened his mouth to correct her about calling him that again, but her mouth had engulfed him, and any words he had been trying to say came out in a condensed mess of vowels and consonants that maybe had once been words, but were now just praise for Maka in a language only he could understand.

Maka sucked harder, and began bobbing her head up and down on his dick, her hand taking care of anything she couldn't cover. Soul wasn't even trying to attempt to be quiet, his whispered swears and snarls were only gaining fervor the faster she moved. She loved it, loved how he gripped the wall, rather than trying to grip her hair, and shove her down farther. She loved how his voice seemed to break every time she ran her tongue under the head, loved how she could glance up and his eye would still be on hers. She loved how the muscles in his legs trembled.

And that worried her.

She went faster, listening to his pleas and encouragement. He wasn't going to last much longer, she could tell in the way his breathing sped up, so she hummed around him, and the poor man didn't know what to do with himself. One hand finally left the wall and came to wrap into her hair, but he didn't shove her down on him like he'd been expecting. Instead, he just held onto her while she continued, and his clenched teeth finally parted.

"M-Maka move, I'm gonn-gonna come."

Instead, she only worked him harder, and he warned her through her moans once more. Finally, he was good on his word, and came. She tried to take him in farther, and he filled her mouth with the bitter end, but she only looked up at him, and swallowed him like she would a shot, before pulling off and licking her lips. He stared down at her, mouth open, breathing heavily and she just blinked at him. He grabbed her and pulled up back up to him, and kissed her, hard.

Once again he'd thrown her for a loop. No man would usually be willing to kiss her after, especially when she swallowed. But, as Soul Evans seemed hell bent on proving, he wasn't any man. She could feel her heart warm up to the sentiment, and she knew she had to get out of there, fast. She pushed away from him, fixed her headband, and smiled.

"See you around, Evans."

Then she slipped from his grip and she was gone.

* * *

**YES I finally got to do my historical AU**

**Also, this was written for day 1 of Soma NSFW week! And tomorrow will be part 2, and supposedly the final, so long as inspiration doesn't strike it down.**

**Hope you liked the smut!**

**-Eris**


	2. Chapter 2

**Part Two:**

**Spread the Word**

* * *

Soul woke up in his bed. Somehow.

Last night had resulted in a blur of rum, lips, legs and green. He wasn't actually sure how much had transpired, and how much had been a dream cooked up by his overly stimulated drunken mind.

He sat up slowly, tugging the undershirt back into place as he sat up and pushed his hair out of his eyes. It was then that he realized he wasn't in his apartment at all. "Oh, fuck me." He growled and got himself out of bed. Slumping towards the kitchen, he found what he'd been looking for.

A cup of coffee and a smirking older brother.

"Well...how did you sleep."

"Shut up Wes."

"What? I'm genuinely curious. You were ossified beyond recognition last night. Not to mention the curious case of the runaway tie and the mark on your neck."

Soul felt color paint his face before he walked over to the mirror. His demon eyes were tired, and his hangover was worn like a mask. He tilted his head to the side, and just as his brother had said, Ms. Albarn's handiwork adorned his neck.

Trying to be nonchalant, he pushed the hem of his boxers down farther, and found another mark pulled from his skin. So, his apparent tryst with Maka Albarn hadn't been concocted in his drunken stupor. Fantastic.

"Huh."

"Yes it is all quite strange, isn't it?" Wes smirked again, eyeing his cup of coffee. "Especially since I recall seeing a young bootlegger's daughter dancing last night, green tie for her headband. Mind you, this was after she disappeared for a while. Oh, but I don't think you would've noticed her gone, as you had disappeared too. It all remains mysterious."

"No one likes a smart ass Wes."

"I like me just fine." Wes answered before taking another drink of coffee. "Although, I do have to wonder why you went with her. After all, there were plenty of women there. Women who wouldn't make mother cry into her pillow at the thought if you being with, and yet, you picked the bootlegger's daughter?"

"You'd be surprised at how little a choice I actually had."

"She's dangerous little brother. You know that right?"

"Yeah."

"I don't just mean the boot legging. She's dangerous. It's a game for her, whatever she's doing to you. It doesn't mean anything to her, and I don't want you getting hurt."

"She couldn't hurt me."

"Oh but she could. Easily."

"I know it's a game Wes." Soul sighed, rubbing the mark on his neck. "And maybe a game wouldn't be so bad."

"Just be careful little brother. I worry for you."

"I'll be fine. Don't worry."

* * *

The man landed in front of her heels, blood sprinkling on her toes.

Maka Albarn rolled her eyes and fixed the tassels on the green dress that had ridden up on her hips during the exchange. Now she had a beautiful dress that almost matched her eyes as well as the stolen tie she had snagged from the youngest Evans brother. But now, her strapping silver shoes were splattered in the red from the man's blood, and red clashed with the green. "Well Mac, you're just hellbent on starting a row, aren't you?"

"I-I'm sorry Ms. Albarn." The man, she hadn't actually picked up his name, mumbled at her feet. She crouched down, keeping herself modestly covered. She clapped her open palm against his face twice and smirked.

"I don't want apologies, Mac. I want the money you owe me and my father for a job well done, and then you're going to add a bonus, because you got blood all over my pretty shoes. Understand Guy?"

"Yes Ms. Albarn."

"Good choice Hombre, and remember, who are we?"

"M-Mr. Albarn and someone I've n-never seen before." The man answered, and Maka pet his head.

"Good. Now scram. I got a party to get to." She watched as he high tailed it out of there, scrambling to get away. Maka only smiled before turning to her father.

Spirit Albarn was taller than his daughter by a head, his vibrant red head of hair hanging in his face, shaking blood off of his knuckles, his face annoyed as he popped his neck. "You know I don't want you telling the bartenders who you are."

"It's my job too." She reminded him. "Even if it isn't technically my name on the runs, it's my brain that created them." A pause. "Besides, I was at his club last night, and with what he's charging, he could be paying us double. I just want what we're owed Papa."

"I suppose that's fair. Better us than the Law right?"

"Even better than being pumped full of lead too." She sighed and shook a tiny ankle, forcing the blood off her shoes. "Damn I do have a party to go it after this."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yes sir. Got wind of a nice little jumping joint down on the South side. Rich little family might need to keep their hooch hopping. The Evans throw enough parties that they're constantly in need."

"Hon you know the Evans won't deal with the likes of me."

"They don't have to know it's us. They just have to know it's good rum at a better deal. Regardless of our 'social standing', we have the better deal, and even the illustrious Evans family can do with a deal now and then."

Spirit smiled down at his daughter, trying to ignore the pit he felt looking at the baby child he'd held in his arms as she spoke of deals and shook a man's blood of her shoes. He had turned his daughter into criminal, worse off...she was brilliant at it. "Well, you have fun."

"Oh Papa, I always do."

* * *

The Evans didn't do anything halfway.

The club now under their management thrummed with the deep base of jazz music. Patrons danced around each other, rainbows dancing off the glitter on their dresses, lighting up the lust on the drunken men with wandering hands.

Maka found herself at home.

She was sitting at the bar, her dress riding too high on legs that never ended, her hair thrown over her right shoulder, nursing a glass of gin that wasn't what she would consider up to par, but she didn't care right now. She had a nice edge going, and even better company.

Next to her, the two daughters of Rex Thompson, most dangerous mobster who currently resided in Death City, Liz and Patti drank with her. Both of them were staring at Maka's long hair. "Come on precious," Liz cooed at her. "Let's get those locks of yours sheared. Between those gams, those tits and that waist, baby you would be the flapper to end all flappers."

"There's no reason to lose the locks." Maka laughed. "If I don't have my hair, how are any of these lovely people supposed to remember me?"

"Oh, I hear they remember you fine." Liz smirked coyly, Patti giggling next to her. Maka feigned innocence.

"Beg pardon?"

"Oh, don't tell me you haven't noticed the several sets of peepers on you since you walked in."

"Especially little Evans." Patti pointed across the club where the Evans matriarch stood with her two sons, and two girls Maka recognized as some of the richest in the city. His mother was obviously trying to encourage some sort of flirtation, yet Soul's older brothers face betrayed complete indifference with his brilliant smile.

Maka knew; she had the same one.

Her little soldier, however, was staring at her, white eyebrow raised. He was surprised she was there. Awh, he was adorable, thinking she was done with him. At the same time, she wasn't sure she liked the look on his face. It was dangerous. Bemused, smug (as though he did anything of mention last night!), she saw the glaze of lust color those strange eyes, making them a little dimmer than normal, all if which she had expected.

What she hasn't expected was the look of absolute challenge that dominated his features. It was shaded in the shadows on his face, present in the glint of his sharp teeth, it was promised in the red of his eyes. Eyes that she couldn't read, not fully. And that worried her.

Not as much as it aroused her.

Still, it was her game. He couldn't win. So Maka spread her lips and licked them slowly, winking at the youngest Evans brother. She turned back to Liz and Patti, who were both looking at her like they had heard something delicious through the grapevine, something she hadn't been included in. "What's got you two a'twitter?"

"Honey, you're carrying a torch for that soldier, and you're carrying it bright."

Maka threw her head back and laughed, motioning for another drink. "It's like you ladies have never met me. I don't carry a torch, ever. To anyone."

"Oh that's what you say, but right now, all I see is you staring blatently at the younger snowball head in the suit, and really liking what you're seeing."

Maka opened her mouth to answer, but watched as her drink disappeared from in front of her, only to be returned empty a few moments later. Her smile was already on when she looked up at the younger Evans, his smirk as dangerous as her smile. "Ms. Albarn," He nodded at her, before facing Liz and Patti. "Mss. Thompson." He smiled before turning back to Maka. "My apologies, Ms. Albarn, I didn't realize you were still drinking."

"Always plenty more good stuff soldier." She grinned at him, ignoring the pointed stares of her two friends. "Isn't that what makes this country fantastic."

"I actually came to ask you about my tie." His eyes narrowed slightly. "And please, don't call me soldier."

"Ah, of course! I'm afraid it's joined my collection of headbands. I do hope you don't mind too terribly much. It's so hard to find the right shade of green that matches my eyes. A girl has to do her shopping wherever she can."

"I see…perhaps you can help me then?" His eyebrow was raised again, and that challenge she had seen so clearly from far away was much more enticing up close where she could read those ruby eyes. "Ladies, would you mind if I borrowed her for a moment? I have some business to discuss."

Liz and Patti glanced at each other; sly smiles passed between them silently communicated about whether it truly was business, or pleasure, or perhaps even both. The Evans family was a big fish, and Maka's father could stand to make a lot of money if they started using him. So, the two mob princesses excused themselves and trotted over to the dance floor. Soul watched them leave, before turning back to Maka, who was smiling as she was filled up again, another glass set down for Soul.

"I must say, that's a high collar on your suit."

"Well, it would appear your little mark was perfectly visible in most everything I owned. I assumed that was on purpose."

"I'm quite nefarious, you should realize this." She grinned at him again, noting the close proximity in which he'd chosen to stand next to her. She could feel most every pair of peepers rest of the two of them for a few seconds before they moved on, but there was someone staring blatantly at her, and Maka finally glanced over her shoulder in order to survey the crowd, and she once again found red eyes staring at her.

Celeste Evans did not look happy with her son so close to her.

Maka enjoyed that sentiment greatly.

"You are a bit nefarious for you own good." Soul sighed and took his drink. Maka watched him swallow the liquor, and she swallowed herself.

"Say, soldier."

"Soul."

"Soul, are you needed here?" Her voice was low, and she trapped her bottom lip between her teeth while she asked, her eyes locking on his, and she saw the light in them fade with lust once more. She slipped her hand into his, and he started pulling her towards the back, the severe face of his mother watching as Maka disappeared with her son, and sent her a little wave before she went.

* * *

She was pushed against the car in the alley, and before she could even complain, his body covered hers.

His hands trailed up her sides, his mouth slanted against hers, and Maka wasn't about to let him take control. She gripped his hips tight and ground her body against his, making sure she went slow enough that he could _feel_ every part of her body against his. Soul moaned into her mouth, and brought a hand against her tit, rubbing his knuckles against it. Maka jerked against him, and she pulled away, breathing harsh. He raised an eyebrow at her, and it took her a second to realize that he was asking if it was okay.

This bastard and his manners.

She rolled her eyes and hips at the same time, bringing the breathlessness back into his voice. He flattened his palms against the car behind them, before his head shot up, and he looked at her with the biggest smirk she'd ever seen on a human being.

Soul pulled her closer to his body, and popped one of the doors to the car open, before helping her inside. She fell back into the tiny back seat, long legs struggling to find a place to rest. He finally helped solve the mystery of where to set her gams, because he threw them over his shoulders. She wanted to protest, she wasn't here to get her rocks off, that wasn't the point of the game, but then his hand began slowly rubbing circles into the skin of her legs, while he pressed his lips to the inside of her knee.

A small whimper bubbled of from chasms forgotten to her, and she felt her arousal grow, dangerously. She didn't want to be this anticipative, didn't want to want to have him continue, but she did, and he didn't disappoint her. His hands continued to travel up and down her long legs, fingernails barely scraping against her flesh. His mouth traveled downwards, kissing her legs until she was almost panting, and his fingers had found the hem of her underwear. He looked up at her, once again as if he were asking her permission. She took a deep breath and nodded, waiting to see exactly what he was planning. She wasn't a stranger to a romp in a car, but she certainly wasn't sure how he was going to fit back here. There was barely enough room for her, and as he slid her panties down her legs she wondered exactly what he was planning-

"Hahh!" She threw her head back as his tongue came in contact with her sex, her hands finding stability in his thick head of hair. Oh _fuck her_; she hadn't been expecting that at all. But Soul didn't stop running his tongue across her slit, his hands gripping at her hips so hard, she was sure she'd have bruises to remind her of this a few days from now, but she wasn't thinking about that right now. If fact, she wasn't thinking about any of that right now.

His tongue accidently flicked against her clit, and Maka's hand tightened in his hair, and she threw her head back and _moaned_. Soul took note, obviously enjoying the way her legs were slowly constricting his head, and the breathy whimpers that spoke to him on primal level, telling him that under pain of death, he should not stop what he's doing. He opens his mouth against her, and soon he's kissing her there like he would her mouth, and Maka is fairly certain she's seeing stars fall and Gods laugh at her. The grip in his hair becomes painful as she catches herself grinding against him, her clit rubbing against his tongue.

The hands she had been ignoring suddenly pop back into her focus as he slips on of his fingers inside of her, curling against her in time with his tongue, and she can't help but squeeze her legs again. Soul pulls away from her long enough to nip at her thigh with his sharp teeth, and she squeaks, hearing him take in a massive breath before diving back to her. She tries to pull words to the forefront of her brain, and she forced a smile through her trembling. "If you needed, _hahh_, air, you could've just a-asked soldier."

He glanced up at her, eyes flashing as he growled against her, the feeling making her back arch from the backseat, and her voice whimper once again. "I'm not a soldier." He spoke against her, slipping a second finger in with his first one, the second digit creating _more_ as the onslaught continued against her. "My-"

"Ahh, oh god." She cried, her hand digging into his hair, and the leather of the back seat.

"Name-" His fingers danced within her faster, and she vaguely remembers hearing that the younger Evans brother was a genius on the piano, and she was understanding how true that was first hand.

"Hahhhh, fuck, fuck, fuck." She moaned, feeling the fire in her stomach ignite, she was rapidly approaching an edge that came from nowhere.

"Is-"

"Soul!" She screamed his name to the top of the car as she came around his fingers, and her legs shook against him. Her back flew from the seat and her vision went white and she went stick straight for several seconds before she fell back against the leather once more, heart beating against her ribcage like it personally wanted to pop out and shake Soul's hand itself. She couldn't stop trying to catch her breath, but she couldn't look away from Soul either, as he pulled himself up, and wiped her off the back of his hand with a smile, before sucking his two fingers clean.

She whimpered at that, and he smiled down at her, before gathering her up in his arms, and flipping them so that she was laying over him in the small backseat, and he slammed the door closed with his foot. She didn't understand him, didn't understand why he hadn't just left her there like she'd left him, didn't understand why he held her like she mattered, and didn't understand why he made sure to run his tongue across his teeth before he kissed her.

"Who are you?"

"Soul. I'm trying to get you to see that. Currently, it's not going so well."

"I don't…I don't understand you." She was admitting too much to him, in her punch drunk afterglow, but she couldn't stop talking. "I know for a fact you're not dead down there, so why haven't you started pushing on my head and insisting I return the favor? Or telling me to roll over and take it silently."

"Because, Ms. Albarn, technically, I'm returning the favor from last night. And besides, we're in the backseat of a car. That's hardly proper."

"But licking me stupid passes your test, Soul?"

He grinned at the mention of his name. "Why, I wouldn't debase you by making you 'roll over and take it silently' in a car. You deserve a bed in the least, I think. Besides, you haven't once said if you _want_ me to sleep with you, and I think that's something rather important that's missing here, wouldn't you say?"

She couldn't believe him, he couldn't be real. But he seemed so serious. She had to know, had to know if it was really him who thought this, or if it was just some act. She'd met some of the nicest guys before, but even nice guys had fists, and she wasn't about to make that mistake again.

"Do you have to go back?" She asked him, and Soul closed his eyes and managed a shrug.

"No, probably not. I've already left in the middle of the party, my rudeness has been noted."

"Then come with me, yeah? I want to show you something."


End file.
